Xanatos: Detached
by ardavenport
Summary: Qui-Gon leads his former Padawan, Xanatos to his next step on his journey as a Jedi Knight. A Jedi Temple drama and an alternate universe tale of Xanatos.
1. Chapter 1

**XANATOS: DETACHED**

by ardavenport

**~ ~ ~ PART 1**

"Ready for another round?" Bruck asked.

Obi-Wan looked at the empty corridor. Yoda was gone. No one would see if he gave Bruck the beating he deserved. Bruck was often cruel, but usually not so brazen. He was deliberately provoking Obi-Wan, trying to get him to lose his temper.

But why? Obi-Wan wondered.

Of course! "You knew all along that Qui-Gon was coming to search for a Padawan, didn't you," Obi-Wan said slowly as the suspicion hardened into certainty. Since Obi-Wan was the oldest apprentice in the Temple, the Jedi Masters would encourage Qui-Gon to take him - the lost cause. Bruck would not want that to happen.

Bruck laughed. "I made sure you didn't find out. If I'd had my way, you wouldn't have found out until he'd left."

Two cloaked figures watched the confrontation between the two boys from a shadowed alcove of the training room. They both saw the play of expressions on Obi-Wan Kenobi's face, so readable, even without the Force. Surprise, hurt, determination, contempt for Bruck Chun and finally a false casualness that disguised none of the fear that both watchers sensed.

Obi-Wan smiled. "Bruck, three months from now, when you turn thirteen, I hope you'll make a great farmer."

Bruck leaped with a snarl, lightsaber held high. Obi-Wan spun to meet him with a cry on his lips. Flashing blades clashed in a burst of light and buzzing sound as the boys met in the room's center.

The shorter of the two watchers shook his head, concealed under the hood of dusty brown Jedi robe.

"That was. . . .really pathetic," he commented, his voice low, though it was doubtful that the two furiously fighting boys would hear either of them.

"Which one?" his taller companion asked.

"Both," he answered. "Kenobi is the most pretentious little wannabe Jedi I've ever seen. And Chun thinks that power comes from taking it from sad cases like Kenobi. I at least had a lot more style and forethought when I did it. Younger than he is, too."

The other person shrugged his shoulders. "Chun is mere a bully. But Kenobi has real strength underneath all that insecurity." The hooded face looked toward the brawling, angry boys in the training area. They pounded each other with sweaty grunts and inarticulate fury. The Force draining away from their unfocused rage, they were both tiring quickly.

"Oh, no," the smaller watcher said.

The taller figure tore his eyes away from the fight.

"You're going to take Kenobi, aren't you?"

"I haven't said anything," the tall one denied.

"You don't have to," the shorter one accused. "You've got that look on your face, like when you put your arm around a slobbering vagrant and give her my robe to keep warm."

"I only did that once. And that was years ago."

"It took years for me to get the smell out," the shorter one complained before turning back to the fight. The boys were stumbling with exhaustion, striking with single, poorly aimed blows, driven by anger and little else. "So, this is my successor? If he really means to go after Chun, then he could turn that saber up. Take off a few limbs maybe. But I don't think he's even though of that."

"No." The bearded face under the hood smiled. "There is no real darkness in his fear and anger. Just impetuousness."

"Aaaaaah, that is your speciality," the shorter figure agreed and then watched until the two boys exhausted each other, finally stumbling away to separate exits. "I suppose I am to salvage the other one."

"Only if you feel it is right."

There was a long sigh. "I suppose it is. I know what he is thinking."

"Really?"

"Yes." The shorter one answered definitively. "Chun knows that if he cut off Kenobi's arms everyone would know that he did it. That's the only thing stopping him."

"Hmmmm, the boy is that cruel?"

"No crueler than I was. Not nearly as smart as me, but smart enough. I suppose."

"Then you will have years to feel superior to him. If you will have him."

"Only if he will have me," the shorter one almost whispered.

The bearded, hooded face looked down at his companion with concern, but nothing more was said. The two watchers silently left their alcove.

**- ooOo%oOOo%oOOOOo%oOOo%oOoo - **

A lonely figure, with backpack and carrying bags, walked toward the boarding ramp of the old Corellian barge. Other people and droids came and went, but the boy in Jedi robe and tunics walked in a sad solitary line toward his fate.

Two adult figures in hooded Jedi robes strolled together, observing the boy as he climbed the ramp into the dingy old ship.

"He seems a bit lifeless today. Have you been wearing him out already?" the younger Jedi asked.

"I haven't even begun."

"Really?" The younger man looked up at the older one suspiciously. "Tell me, Master Qui-Gon, have you not chosen this young prospect for your new Padawan?"

"I have permission from the Council," Qui-Gon Jinn nodded. "Just as you, Knight Xanatos, have permission to choose young Bruck for your first pupil."

Xanatos looked toward the ship going to Bandomeer, his companion's destination. His next mission.

"And does young Obi-Wan Kenobi know that he has been chosen?"

"I might have failed to mention it to him," Xanatos's former Master replied innocently.

Xanatos stopped walking.

"Then where does he think he's going?" he demanded.

Pausing and turning, Qui-Gon calmly replied, "I believe he was given an assignment to Agri-Corps. Purely a mistake though. Which I will rectify. At the proper time."

'Agri-Corps' Xanatos mouthed.

"So that boy, right now, thinks he's a cast off, a failure of the Jedi Order."

"Agri-Corps is a perfectly noble calling - - -"

"Agri-Corps isn't a calling. It's the dumping ground of the Jedi Order for its castoffs. Only Master Yoda believes any of the party line about the nobility of planting and growing. If the Order meant what they said about Agri-Corps it would be training their younglings to be farmers. But they only train them to be Knights. And they only break the bad news to the ones who don't meet their standards when it's too late for them to be anything else," Xanatos snarled.

"And you let them give him an assignment to Agri-Corps?" he finished, glaring. "I don't ever remember you being so cruel."

"Perhaps I learned it from you," Qui-Gon replied humorlessly.

The expression drained from Xanatos's pale face, a slight breeze ruffling the bangs of his black hair, the rest of it tied back at the base of his neck.

"Perhaps you did," he acknowledged. "So, you plan to crush his spirit with an assignment to Agri-Corps and then at the appropriately dramatic moment rescue him from his doom and bring him back into the Jedi fold. Thus guaranteeing his fervent loyalty toward you, his savior."

"I am not toying with him," Qui-Gon said, still serious. "But his desire to be a Jedi is such a consuming ambition in him that I do not think he will truly know what it is unless he knows how to let it go."

"Oh, the old Jedi penance of no attachments." Xanatos moaned sarcastically. "Now, even wanting to be a Jedi is too much of an attachment. We must all be so detached." He sighed and resumed walking toward the ship with Qui-Gon.

"At least I now see why you are taking this sub-standard transport to this miserable world. I was beginning to fear for the Jedi Order's resources."

The two stopped again, Xanatos facing the taller man.

"I only hope that there will be something left of Kenobi when you are done with him," Xanatos said.

"May the Force be with you, Xanatos. And your young prospect." Qui-Gon Jinn nodded and left, going up the ramp without a backward glance.

"It will," Xanatos said to his former Master, disappearing into the dark interior of the old transport ship. "I can't seem to get rid of it."

**~ ~ ~ END PART 1**


	2. Chapter 2

**XANATOS: DETACHED**

by ardavenport

**~ ~ ~ PART 2**

Alone in a small training room, unaware that he was being watched, Bruck Chun fiercely swung his green lightsaber blade in a controlled exercise.

Slash. Step. Spin. Step. Step. Jab. Slash up. Reverse Down. Spin. Slash - - -

His blade collided, locking solidly with a blue lightsaber with a jolt that he felt through his elbows all the way up in his shoulders.

Bruck hastily disengaged, shutting off his saber and jumping back, his pale blue eyes staring at the equally pale blue eyes of the Jedi Knight who had suddenly appeared.

"You've got enough power," the Knight said, twirling his saber casually before extinguishing the blade. "And you're fast enough. But your motions are almost mechanical. A routine like that will never teach you anything if you just memorize it."

The Knight clipped his lightsaber to his belt. He was tall, but not much more than a head taller than Bruck, who was large for his age. The Knight's skin was as pale as Bruck's, made more striking by his black hair, loose and untidy around his face with the rest of it tied back behind him. He wore a dusty brown robe over plain, dusty brown tunic and pants as well as the usual Jedi belt and tall boots.

Bruck eyed him warily, not liking the criticism. But this newcomer was a Jedi Knight.

And Bruck Chun was an Initiate in need of a Master.

Bruck bowed his pale head.

"I would be honored if you would instruct me," he said. "Master. . . .?"

"Xanatos. Xanatos Son-of-Crion."

Bruck stared back. He had heard the name. At least the Xanatos part of it.

As was common in the Republic, Bruck's home world, Telos, had gone for many generations without yielding a single Jedi candidate, but within the span of one generation, it had produced two. Bruck was one. Xanatos was the other.

As a youngling, he had been only vaguely aware of there being another Telosian Human Jedi, a Padawan over ten years his age, through the annual missives he received from his father. Though attachments were forbidden to Jedi, familial contacts were not. Only discouraged. Bruck hung on to this connection, the unswerving pride from his parents and the admiration of a little brother who looked so much like him.

The messages he annually exchanged with his distant family were his private strength to him, not an attachment. But the communications had almost ended more than three years ago when the planetary government of Telos had nearly succumbed to a coup. His father had been wrongly accused of complicity and corruption and only Bruck's position with the Jedi had gained sympathy and leniency for his family. Because a Jedi had struck down the would-be dictator.

Xanatos.

"You killed Crion," Bruck blurted out.

"Yes." Xanatos admitted, unconcerned. "And you know what the Jedi Council did for killing my own father?" He learned close, nose-to-nose with Bruck. "They knighted me. The perverts."

Bruck pulled back, suddenly very nervous about the glint he saw in Xanatos's pale blue eyes and not sure if he believed what he was hearing.

Crion, the dictator, was Xanatos's father?

Why wouldn't his own father have said anything about it? Had that been covered up? Or was Xanatos lying? Was he unstable? But why would he be knighted if he were? He looked suspiciously at the man before him, his plain brown Jedi clothes. And the lightsaber attached to his belt.

"I have to be going now." Bruck backed away.

"But you just begged for my instruction?" Xanatos noted, his tone rising, mocking.

Bruck only paused. "I don't have time," he mumbled. But Xanatos danced around him. Fast. Blocking his path.

"But I do," he finished.

Bruck grimaced. He knew when he was being played with. And this was not a game he could win.

"I don't need anything from you," Bruck snarled, pushing past him, speaking far more brusquely to a Knight than he otherwise might have. He just wanted to get away.

Xanatos let him pass. But outside in the hall, anger stirred in Bruck when he heard Xanatos laugh.

**- ooOo%oOOo%oOOOOo%oOOo%oOoo - **

Over the next few days, Bruck Chun found Xanatos conspicuously visible. In the eating hall, loitering in an entryway, speaking to an instructor, and worst of all, observing the Initiates in saber practice, along with three other Knights known to be ready to choose apprentices. None of the other Knights acted like they might be concerned with Xanatos's manner. He seemed almost normal with them. But when the others weren't looking, those pale eyes would lock on Bruck, almost predatory.

If any Initiate dared challenge him that way, Bruck would have gotten them alone, or maybe with some friends and taunted the upstart until they cried. Aside from the fun of watching them cower, the insult would be quickly repaid, fast and hard. Rivals had to be stomped on early before they became a threat. But what could Bruck do against a Knight?

And with each casual appearance of Son-of-Crion came the realization that he had been watching Bruck for some time. Xanatos had just decided to make his presence known.

In one late afternoon session Bruck fought hard, delivering sure and powerful blows to a smaller but more nimble fellow Initiate in the training circle. His opponent, Cheeztof, dodged and evaded, but Bruck did not allow time for him to recover and counter-attack. He swiftly pounded again and again, spurred on by Xanatos's grins and whispered comments to one of the Knights on the sidelines. Bruck knew he was being talked about. Criticized. Laughed at.

The instructor stopped the fight with no comment about either Bruck or Cheeztofs' performance. They bowed to each other and a new sparring pair stepped forward. Still breathing hard, Bruck sneered at Xanatos. He had clearly won the match.

The next morning, one of the Knights who had been watching their saber training selected Cheeztof to be her apprentice.

**- ooOo%oOOo%oOOOOo%oOOo%oOoo - **

"Do you know who that is?" Aalto asked over midday meal in the eating hall. Furious to be caught glaring back at Xanatos at a far table, Bruck shook his head.

"Not anybody important."

"He was watching us fight the other day. And I've seen him around, but none of the teachers have said anything about him choosing a Padawan." Aalto peered toward Xanatos, obviously sizing him up as a potential Master.

Bruck shrugged, faking indifference. "Guess he's not." Taking a sudden interest in his meal, he hid his anger and frustration by biting down hard on his food. The conversation moved on to other things, though Bruck knew that Xanatos still watched.

The next day, Aalto was chosen by Master Uridupe to be his apprentice.

**- ooOo%oOOo%oOOOOo%oOOo%oOoo - **

Three more Initiates were chosen over the following three weeks, all of them younger than Bruck. One of them, a close friend of Kenobi, Garen Muln, was chosen by Master Clee Rhara.

He trained for extra hours, working hard, honing his lightsaber skills, but Bruck remained only an Initiate, watching his clan mates pairing off with Masters, one by one.

The final insult came when he heard that Obi-Wan Kenobi, supposedly rejected and sent to Agri-Corps, had been taken by Qui-Gon Jinn to be his Padawan. Word of the appointment had only been late because they were away from the Temple. Already they were being sent out on missions.

He pounded his fist on a table in outrage when he heard this. The others around him drew back, but he didn't care. Why would Qui-Gon Jinn take a weakling like Kenobi? Oafy-Wan? Was Jinn as mentally defective as his new apprentice after all?

He glimpsed a blue-eyed smirk across the room and he glared back. He was now convinced that Xanatos was warning other Masters away, steering them toward choosing lesser students over him. Xanatos had tried to speak to him a few times but Bruck had never let him get in more than a few words before getting away.

He had finally looked up Son-of-Crion in the Archive and confirmed Xanatos's story. He was the dictator's son, identified as a Jedi candidate and brought to the Temple by none other than Qui-Gon Jinn, who had taken him later as his apprentice.

The motive behind Xanatos's games became clear. It was too much of a coincidence that the old Padawan of Kenobi's new Master was making sport with Bruck's chances of being chosen to be trained as a Jedi Knight.

Bruck seethed when he thought of how Kenobi must be enjoying his revenge from a safe and cowardly distance. But what could he do? As a Jedi Knight, Xanatos was untouchable to him. And his circle of comrades had become shockingly absent. Most of them were chosen now, gone to Padawan training. Aalto, Peevin, Jeeman, he hardly ever saw them now, even at meals; they spent their time with their new Masters. The few allies he had were only the younger hnagers-on, who wanted to stick around with someone bigger than they were, more likely to leech off of his strength than be any use. He could hardly stand to sit at meals with them.

Angry, he had even gone back to the Archive to look for any information that might help him, but the data available to an Initiate contained nothing useful.

Since being knighted, Xanatos had done nothing of any significance. Even worse, other than appearing only for ceremonial occasions for the Jedi Order, Xanatos was assigned to work with the Temple Custodians. The Temple Custodians! A post reserved only for old Masters too crippled and infirm to be of any other use to the Jedi, confirming to Bruck that he likely was unstable. But his lowly position meant that Xanatos had all the time and opportunity he needed to pick on Bruck.

Then a few days later, some news from one of the hangers-on, Xeemi who proved useful with his love of gossip, gave him a weapon with which he could confront Xanatos.

**- ooOo%oOOo%oOOOOo%oOOo%oOoo - **

"I wonder what they were doing," Xanatos commented of the soggy pair of boots, dripping with yellow goo, smelling strongly of pungent, spicy sap, and stiffly standing upright, stuffed with fat brown rags that looked like the remains of somebody's robe.

"Recycle," Master Craglar grumbled. "The droids don't need to waste their time trying to make those usable again. They'll never get the smell out anyway."

Xanatos sniffed. "It's not such a bad smell. I can think of quite a few Jedi who might be improved by it."

Craglar scrunched up his sagging face, the long white whiskers ruffling up. His minimal lower jaw gave his wrinkly skin plenty of room for fierce expression. "Just as long as you don't show up here smelling like that."

"You're not really in a position to complain about other people's smells, my fine friend. And I prefer more floral scents anyway. They're more masculine than you think," Xanatos countered before looking back at the sadly abused boots. "But I suppose we should destroy the evidence. If the garden custodians above haven't asked what's been going on under their bushes I suppose it's not our place to."

Craglar waved for the droid to take the boots away. Then he leaned close to Xanatos.

"You've got a visitor," he whispered in his gruff voice.

"I know."

Xanatos pasted a smile on his face before turning around to see Bruck Chun glaring suspiciously after the departing droid.

"We think it might have been a plant massacre, but we haven't gotten the analysis back yet," Xanatos announced, leaning back against a work table. Craglar huffed a short laugh and moved away, his large sluggish feet dragging, scraping the floor as he went. Xanatos scowled after him.

"Welcome to my prison of penance," he said cheerily, "otherwise known as Solid Materials Recycling. Everything in this Temple ends up here. Eventually." But Bruck Chun was humorless this morning.

"You can stop following me," Bruck said with determination.

"Really?" Xanatos put his hand to his chest. "I would have called it harassment."

"You don't have to warn all the other Knights away from me anymore."

Son-of-Crion's brows rose, wondering what the boy had been imagining. "Is that what I'm doing? I suppose one can look at it that way."

"Well, you don't have to do it anymore. Because Kenobi's left the Order. So, you don't have to warn all the other Knights away from me for him."

Xanatos's mouth opened, but nothing came out, a rare instance of speechlessness for him. Bruck sneered back, an admirably evil expression for a twelve-year-old.

"Qui-Gon Jinn's come back to the Temple without him. And he might be looking to choose another Padawan. So, you can stay out of my way."

Then Bruck Chun demonstrated a good sense of dramatic timing, turned and left. Xanatos mutely watched him go as his stunned brain tried to absorb what he'd heard. He shook his head.

Kenobi leaving the Jedi. He was a lot smarter than he looked.

**~ ~ ~ END PART 2**


	3. Chapter 3

**XANATOS: DETACHED**

by ardavenport

**~ ~ ~ PART 3**

Much later, Xanatos found Qui-Gon Jinn sulking in his room. After confirming the details of Bruck's story. He had sensed only triumphant truthfulness from the boy, but he was not going to go into the Den of Jinn without arming himself with the facts first.

Kenobi had left the Order to side with a faction of a civil war on Melida-Daan. A faction of idealistic younglings, mostly Kenobi's age. They had originally been sent to rescue an injured Knight who was trying to negotiate an end to the war. While there, Kenobi had become entangled in the planetary passions while Jinn stuck to the mission. They had split when Kenobi wanted to use their ship to help the Young, the faction he sided with, while Jinn wanted to take Tahl, the Knight who had so badly failed her mission of peace, back to the Temple. According to Tahl, the final confrontation had almost led to a fight before Kenobi stopped it and handed in his lightsaber instead.

Tahl was a former clan mate of Qui-Gon and Xanatos had met her a few times. They were only passing acquaintances, but she accepted his visitation in the med-center though she was grievously maimed and probably permanently blinded. Even so, she selflessly only expressed concern for Qui-Gon's hurt.

Xanatos supposed that the dramatically selfless Qui-Gon and Tahl deserved each other, but at the moment there was a bigger mess to deal with.

He did not touch the door chime. He just walked in to find Qui-Gon sitting on a floor cushion in the gloom, his back to the door.

"So, I hear you really lost one this time."

Silence.

"Taught him too much detachment? So, he detached himself?"

Silence.

Xanatos could feel Qui-Gon Jinn's mind churning through the Force. His old Master was trying to meditate his way through his turmoil. Xanatos knew that if he were sensible, he should just leave him to it.

If he were sensible.

He kept firing acidic remarks at Qui-Gon who kept ignoring him. Until. . . .

"Miscalculated on how much cruelty he could stand perhaps?"

"Yes," Qui-Gon answered, unmoving. "I should have consulted you first, since you are far more expert at it."

And Xanatos realized that his old Master had not been ignoring him at all. He had just been waiting for a good opening.

"How goes your own project?" Qui-Gon asked, still facing the bare wall of his room.

Xanatos lowered his head. "I've been going too easy on him. I haven't been nearly cruel enough. He thinks I'm conspiring with Kenobi and you to keep him from being chosen. Presumably as revenge for his bullying ways, though he wouldn't call it that."

Qui-Gon turned his head, one shadowed eye catching Xanatos's.

"Does he really think he's that important?"

"His attitude comes as much from the immaturity of his age as it does from his vanity."

The older man looked away again.

"It is past time for him to grow up."

"I'm glad you think so. This time."

Qui-Gon did not answer that.

"Are you going to leave Kenobi? On that planet? In the middle of a war?"

"I must," Qui-Gon answered, the emotion leaking out on the second word.

"And if he calls for help?"

He turned to peer at him again.

"Then I'll go."

"Make him a Jedi?"

"Why do you care?"

Xanatos's jaw clinched before he answered.

"Because you do."

He turned and left Qui-Gon's room, his robe whipping past the door frame as he passed.

**- ooOo%oOOo%oOOOOo%oOOo%oOoo - **

After a few days, Qui-Gon Jinn emerged from his solitude, having bled out most of his upset in the usual meditative Jedi way. Xanatos next saw him with a couple of other Knights observing the Initiates practice. In deference to Bruck's request, he said nothing to his fellow Knights. But that was easy. He was not observing the action with them.

Xanatos and Master Craglar were assisting the instructors with the training. They took turns sparring with each Initiate while the instructors pointed out differences in style and form. Chun looked smug when he got Craglar for his turn, as if he had denied Xanatos some petty victory. But his grin vanished when he barely blocked the elderly Knight's opening attack.

Initiates and Padawans, Xanatos reflected, always seemed to underestimate the strength of the Force, acting through an experienced, but old and arthritic Master. Though in the case of Craglar, their surprise could also come from the rain of spittle he ejected every time he yelled. Bruck actually paused to wipe his cheek in disgust before throwing himself totally into the fight. He did well. He never came close to even inconveniencing Craglar, but his focus was good.

When he finished, bowed and withdrew, he nodded toward Qui-Gon Jinn who did not return it. That man was not shopping for any new Padawans. Only looking over the old one. And contemplating the absence of the one he had not given up on.

When the session was finished, Chun lingered, his eyes on the Knights as if one of them would stride right up to him and beg to teach him. They just quietly left in a group, brown robes gliding out the door. And while his attention remained on their departure, Xanatos quietly got between Bruck and the door.

"You fight well," Xanatos said, startling the pale-haired boy, who quickly regained his composure and tried to go around.

Xanatos blocked his path.

"You keep avoiding me, Bruck. But you can't stop throwing yourself at them." His eyes flicked contemptuously toward the doorway that the Knights had departed through. "You could learn a lot more from me."

"I don't need anything from you," Bruck snarled, taking a step, but Xanatos stopped him with one raised finger pointed between his eyes.

"Ooooh, but you do. You're starting to feel your age," Xanatos began to circle. "How many weeks until your next birthday? Not many I think. And your clan mates are leaving you. They're all getting chosen by Masters. One by one. Except you."

Real hatred burned in Bruck's expression. Xanatos grinned to see it. It was dark, yes. But also honest.

"And then here I am. A full Jedi Knight. Just what you've been looking for." He suddenly darted forward, his lips close to Bruck's ear. "I even have permission from the Council to choose an apprentice."

That finally jolted Bruck out of his anger. His head turned, following Xanatos as he continued to circle.

"Do you think I have nothing better to do with my life than follow you around to fulfill somebody else's grudge?" he complained and then grinned when he saw Bruck flinch. "You certainly are thick. Which is a point against you. Still the Force is strong with you, if a bit mis-directed. And you have focus, though you'll have to lose the anger.

"I know what you want, Bruck. A nice soft Master who will only praise you for learning the mysteries of the Force. An easy path to Knighthood.

"But I know what you really need." Xanatos stopped in front of Bruck and folded his arms, hiding them in the opposite sleeves of his robe, the traditional Jedi posture of serenity. "A Master who knows what darkness really is and who'll kick you out of that wallow when you wade in too deep. I suppose I can manage." He tapped his foot. "These are good boots." He leered at the boy.

Bruck stared back, obviously shocked, his mouth hanging open. Xanatos was enjoying it too much to interrupt as he watched coherent thoughts return to the boy's expression.

"You - - you work with the Temple Custodians," he finally said.

Xanatos shrugged. "I serve. That's what Jedi do."

"You pick up other people's garbage!" he blurted out with distaste.

Xanatos lifted his head in mock affront. "I do not. The droids do that. I just tell them where to put it. But just in case you think I only know about garbage, I have also served the Archives, ship and droid maintenance - - though I'm not very mechanical and I wouldn't expect you to do that - - equipment fabrication, ecological exchanges, air, water and solids recycling - - and the smells in those facilities are truly memorable - - the Force is quite strong in the dungeons in this Temple.

"So," Xanatos clapped his hands together in very pretentious enthusiasm. "How's that sound to you, Bruck Chun? Want to be a Jedi Knight?"

The Initiate's face had paled with increasing horror at every lowly position that Xanatos admitted to. He stood staring, eyes wide. Xanatos sensed the conflict radiating out from him. He could not possibly say 'no' to a Knight offering him apprenticeship, but how could he say 'yes' to what he had just been offered?

"Well, I suppose you need time to think about it. It's a big decision. But while you keep getting older, Bruck, just remember. . . . this might be the best offer you get," he warned.

Xanatos nodded an abbreviated bow, turned and left. Craglar, who had waited by the door, joined him.

"Is that the one you wanted to take on as an apprentice?" the old Master asked gruffly, jabbing a thumb toward where Bruck still stood, alone now in the training arena.

"Yes. That's him."

Craglar puckered his mouth, his long whiskers rising and falling, and shook his head. "I don't know what you see in him."

Xanatos took one last look at him.

"Me."

**- ooOo%oOOo%oOOOOo%oOOo%oOoo - **

Xanatos did not see Bruck Chun for several days. He went about his usual routines. Rising early, lightly exercising and meditating before first meal of the day. Then he would go down into the lower levels of the Temple to manage the day-to-day wastes that the whole Jedi Order produced and flushed down to him. He would take meals or exercise breaks down there with the Custodians, not emerging until past day's end to climb up to take a random walk somewhere in the Temple to appreciate the results of efficient waste management. Then he would retire to dream of harmless things until he woke and did it all over again.

Only a few years ago, Xanatos would have thought that such drudgery would have been far beneath his exalted talents, but now each bland day felt like a relief. Cool water on the scars on his soul. Someday, when he had piled up enough of those days those scars might be healed enough to touch.

He finally did get a visitor, during one of his random walks, but it was Qui-Gon Jinn, not Bruck Chun. His former Master sadly told him that Tahl's blindness was permanent; none of the treatments had worked.

This news surprised Xanatos. Not about the blindness, but that they were trying to fix it. He could see that the injury was hopeless when he'd visited her after she returned from Melida-Daan. What could they have been trying? He silently shook his head. Even Jedi were not immune to the allure of hope.

"Has Kenobi called for your help yet?" he asked, changing the subject to another of Qui-Gon's problems.

Jinn walked for several more grim paces before answering.

"No."

"Is he still alive?" he followed up.

More grim steps followed, two Jedi walking alone, tiny figures dwarfed by the immense columned hall.

"Yes," Jinn finally answered after a long vague pause, an internal consultation of the Force, a reaching out for the feeling of a chosen apprentice who had left the Jedi for a distant planet's civil war.

"How goes your own apprentice?" Qui-Gon asked, diverting the subject to something that was Xanatos's problem, not his.

"He's not my apprentice yet."

"You still haven't asked?"

"I have. He is taking his time with answering," Xanatos explained to his old Master's curious look. "He visited me in the bowels of the Temple and he is likely disenchanted with the prospect of being my apprentice."

"You don't have to work down there. The Council - - "

"Yes. I do," Xanatos interrupted. "It is the only service here that I can properly detach myself from."

"And how long will you continue this way? Merely existing? Detached?"

"Until I feel that my Masters are capable to telling the difference between a properly detached Jedi and a sociopath."

Qui-Gon Jinn looked away, stung. "I know. We failed you."

Xanatos sighed, exasperated. "Can you not at least let me take some of the blame?" he demanded. "_I_ used others for my gains. _I_ conspired with Crion to overthrow the government on Telos. And _I_ punished people when they did nothing more than annoy me. That was how I practiced my detachment."

"I looked the other way. Made excuses for you. For too long," Qui-Gon admitted, his eyes downcast. "If Master Yoda had not seen you more clearly than - - "

"Ha ha! Master Yoda. That devious little gremlin is at the core of everything in the Jedi Order. He's been around so long. But his wisdom was too subtle to breach my pride. Until it was too late."

"It is not too late," Qui-Gon denial firmly. "Otherwise you would not be here."

Xanatos sighed wearily at the truth of this. "Only because I have no other place to go. I despoiled my old path quite thoroughly back on Telos."

They both stopped, facing a very solid wall. They had run out of gloomy hall and had to choose to walk right or left. They faced each other instead.

"Just as your new, old Padawan is despoiling his own path on Melida-Dann."

"I know," Qui-Gon acknowledged; his voice almost choked on the emotion.

"I hope he lives," Xanatos consoled, without saying whether he thought young Kenobi should return to the Jedi.

**~ ~ ~ END PART 3**


	4. Chapter 4

**XANATOS: DETACHED**

by ardavenport

**~ ~ ~ PART 4**

After his painful stroll with his old Master, Xanatos returned to his room. He longed to sleep to wake up again to his bland life in the morning, but their talk had poked a hot stick into his old wounds and he now had to drain the mental pus that had come out.

He settled on a cushion in his dark bare, empty room. And cleared his mind. Opening his vein of memories.

After the debacle on Telos, after he was celebrated as a hero for stopping a coup by killing his own father, after he had been knighted . . . . Xanatos had spent many painful hours in the dark desolate parts of his mind and wondered how Qui-Gon Jinn could have missed what his own Padawan really was for so long? How could he have missed the casual cruelties, the disdain for others, the uncompromising ambition? How could he have mistaken those for dedication to duty and Jedi detachment? For years?

Then, in the depths of his agony of post-patricide self-contemplation, Xanatos had met Qui-Gon Jinn's old Master. Dooku.

After that, everything became clear.

Throughout his apprenticeship with Qui-Gon, Xanatos had heard of his mentor's illustrious Master, the great diplomat and negotiator, Dooku, whose assignments rarely brought him to the Jedi Temple. He had asked Qui-Gon if they might meet someday, respectfully saying that he could learn so much from such a great Jedi. Qui-Gon would always shrug and say that if the Force willed their paths to cross then they would.

They didn't.

Xanatos had finally concluded that his Master was motivated to avoid Dooku because of some old friction between them. But he had been wrong, as he had been about so many things.

When he finally saw them together there was no animosity at all. They had simply become two people who no longer had anything in common.

Dooku had come to the Temple on his own business and only stopped by to view the wreckage of Xanatos, newly knighted apprentice of his first Padawan, Qui-Gon Jinn. Xanatos's spirit ebbed at such a low then that he did not care about being dispassionately analyzed by the older man.

Dooku was blunt and ruthless and heartless as he reviewed both Qui-Gon and Xanatos' faults. And he had been brutally correct in all his assessments. In the end, he congratulated Qui-Gon on achieving the rank of Master through his Padawan's elevation to Jedi Knight though he had clearly made the process more difficult than it needed to be. Then he left. Cold, impersonal, detached.

After an apprenticeship with this man, Qui-Gon's ability to discriminate between Jedi detachment and a complete lack of empathy for others would have been thoroughly deadened. Leaving a severe blind spot for the Jedi around him in a Knight who was otherwise superbly empathetic to any other beings through the Living Force.

Dooku had dispassionately pointed out this deficiency in Qui-Gon, emotionlessly noting that it resulted from his own teachings. Xanatos was not quite sure that Dooku wasn't a sociopath, but if he was the older man clearly had the discipline to manage it.

In his earlier life Xanatos had considered Dooku to be a model for what he wanted to be when he joined his father to overthrow the Telosian government. A great Jedi leader, manipulating events and people with his superior powers and intellect. For the greater good. He had imagined that Qui-Gon and Dooku would be proud of his accomplishment of so thoroughly sweeping away the old corrupt politicians on Telos.

Somehow, Xanatos had missed the fact that his own father was the oldest and most corrupted politician of them all.

Xanatos fell out of his meditation, losing his focus, feeling sick. His head ached and he slid down sideways to lay his cheek on the smooth cool floor.

Even after all these years he still had the same physical, visceral reaction to what he had done. What he had been. His life was bisected by what had happened on Telos.

Before Telos, he had been a confident, ambitious, intelligent, handsome, intuitive Jedi Learner. Superior in every way. Ready to become more than he was. Certainly more than what his Master had amounted to.

After Telos. . . . . his future was gone. Collapsed when his past fell in on him. His ambition shrank and shriveled under the blazing revelation of how petty and mediocre his schemes really were. And what they might have been.

What poisoned, twisted thing would he have become if he had not defended himself when his father flew into a rage, when his son objected to a plan to blame the unstable political situation on Qui-Gon Jinn, who had foolishly tried to stop the coup and been captured and wounded in the process?

Crion had un-holstered his sidearm and fired at Xanatos to shut up his arguments, probably knowing that a Jedi could easily brush aside the weapon fire. Probably. Crion did not tolerate dissent. He struck it down with his will and even blows for any wavering underlings. Crion always got his way.

Xanatos saw in his mind . . . . that one shot, deflected and ricocheting off of his lightsaber blade, his hand guided by unthinking instinct and the Force. Hitting Crion in the forehead, making a neat blackened circle right in the center. The body falling back onto the ornate rug of the family study, Crion's face frozen in an expression of total surprise.

Shocked, Xanatos had fallen back, staring at the bound, bleeding and unconscious body of his living Master. And then at the cooling body of his dead father, that hole in his forehead still smoking in the wavering yellow light of the study's huge fire alcove. He could smell the burnt flesh and brain.

Xanatos numbly did not respond to any com signals, his mind frozen on the impossibility of what had happened. Could it have been an accident? But there were no accidents with the Force. Never.

After a long, long time, a servant finally dared to open the door of the private study to discover the carnage within. Everything happened quickly after that. Medical droid for Qui-Gon. Ministers arriving. Scanners and lights. Examinations. Xanatos did not break out of his stupor until the celebrating started.

In the present, Xanatos lay on the floor of his lonely room in the Temple. In the past, ruthlessly replaying in his brain through the Force, one Telosian Minister had screamed, letting out a weird keening sound of pure emotion before she kicked Crion's lifeless body. The others stopped her. The body was removed, to take away the temptation for more abuse. The Ministers listened to Xanatos's blank retelling of everything that had happened. They ignored his complicity in the coup plot since he had struck the fatal blow that had freed them. He and Qui-Gon were kindly removed from the scene of the murder. The assassination. The liberation.

Outside the family estate, what little remained of Xanatos's self collapsed under the weight of the spontaneous celebration in the capital city. Lights came on, people shouted their joy, running in the streets, grabbing each other and crying. Everyone was so happy. It could hardly be contained. They shouted his name in praise.

'Xanatos! Xanatos! Xanatos!'

Xanatos was a hero.

After that, he did everything by rote. Eat, sleep, dress, wash. When Qui-Gon was recovered enough, they were sent back to Coruscant. Xanatos supposed that his Master had been concerned by his unresponsive state, but he didn't really remember. His first searing, coherent thought came when he and Qui-Gon presented themselves to the Jedi Council. Xanatos had fallen to his knees, sliding down onto the floor weeping. He was supposed to be a hero. A Jedi. But he had always been something very different, twisted and malicious like his father. And nobody ever told him.

He had become so incoherent that he was bodily removed from the Council Chamber. He remembered the faces, the heads of the Masters looking down, their hands on him, sinking into the total humiliation of his complete loss of control. Master Yoda, small and close to the floor, had looked closely at him with the empathy that Xanatos was now cursed with.

Alone in his room, curled up on the floor, he shivered, tormented by shame, by hopelessness, by despair that anything would ever matter to him again. Snippets of things he had done, memories of people, their faces, their words, fleshed out with larger meanings under his tightly closed eyes. Things that could never penetrate his old ambitions now stabbed deeply into him.

Finally his body unclinched, his past letting him go. Xanatos crawled to the sleep couch and fell into black, dreamless exhaustion.

The next morning, he got up and went back to his bland life, doing everything by rote.

A few days later Xanatos heard the news. Kenobi had called for help. Qui-Gon Jinn immediately left the Temple for Melida-Daan.

**- ooOo%oOOo%oOOOOo%oOOo%oOoo - **

Bruck Chun felt trapped. His thirteenth birthday was approaching. Two more of his clan mates had been chosen, changed from Initiates to Padawans by the assent of two willing Masters, leaving only those few, weak in the Force, who fatalistically accepted their eventual assignment to Agri-Corps. He never associated with rejects like them, but now they were the only ones left around him.

Hidden behind a row of bushes in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, alone from any prying eyes, he disconsolately looked down at the text of the com screen he held.

His father had sent his usual communication early. Among the family news and expressions of pride were some not-so-subtle inquiries about his status. Which Master had chosen him? There seemed to be no question that he would be a Jedi Knight. No room for escape. But Bruck knew that he had been chosen.

By Xanatos.

If the other Knights knew, they would not even consider him. Why bother, if Xanatos had already chosen him?

Bruck's heart beat faster in panic when he thought of the dingy workroom where he had found Xanatos directing cleaning droids with some smelly wrinkled old Master in a tatty robe. Cleaning up other people's garbage. Did that happen to all Jedi Knights when they got old? Or when they got crazy?

If he accepted Xanatos he would have to work there. No missions, no travels to other worlds, just endless days of drudgery at the bottom of the Jedi Order. Others would fulfill their destinies of adventure and excitement while he with his Master cleaned up after them.

He would be better off eating dirt in the Agri-Corps.

Almost.

Bruck froze when he heard the sound of other people. Familiar voices.

He cautiously peeked around the bush, looking up.

There was Qui-Gon Jinn. Tall, powerful, the kind of Knight who _should_ have chosen him to be his Padawan.

Jinn bent forward, hand resting on another's shoulder and speaking softly, the words indistinct, but the tone gentle. The other person lifted his head . . .

. . . . Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Bruck quickly pulled back, fearful of being seen.

Kenobi was back. Qui-Gon Jinn's apprentice again.

Tucking the com screen away in his tunic, Bruck silently snuck away, creeping slowly until he was far enough away to run.

**~ ~ ~ END PART 4**


	5. Chapter 5

**XANATOS: DETACHED**

by ardavenport

**~ ~ ~ PART 5**

Xanatos and Craglar volunteered to assist the lightsaber instructors with the senior Initiates again. Craglar had enjoyed the exercise and change of routine. Xanatos wanted another look at Bruck. And Kenobi.

Kenobi was only provisionally Qui-Gon Jinn's Padawan again. He kept his own room, trained and meditated with Jinn, but he lived in the gray area of probation. Jinn might have taken him back but the Council had not. He was grounded to the Jedi Temple, half of his time spent with the Initiates, who disdained him as some kind of traitor to the Order. Qui-Gon could still be sent out on missions, but his apprentice would stay behind until the Council approved his worthiness.

So, Bruck's usual hostility toward Kenobi did not stand out. All the other Initiates were doing it, standing apart from Kenobi who stoically accepted it. Xanatos thought that martyrdom suited him.

The instructor, Master Anoon Bondara, started out by having Xanatos spar with a line of younger students. But instead of using him as a silent actor to his instruction, he invited the young Knight to critique each Initiate. Bondara knew that he had offered Bruck apprenticeship (the only reason why he accepted Xanatos as a participant in the class) but had no comment about why Bruck had not accepted yet. Xanatos suspected that Bondara was testing him as much as his young students. Had the Council requested a report from the Twi-lek Master about his suitability as a teacher? Probably. If the Council was sensible. And they were mercilessly sensible.

The first Initiates were practically younglings, not even mature enough to be selected as Padawans. Xanatos let them start out with their practiced moves before he challenged them with a sudden slash or slice. How well they responded to the unexpected showed how well they let the Force guide their counter-moves. All of the them did well, though their smaller, growing bodies still made them clumsy.

Then Xanatos got Kenobi in the rotation. Kenobi marched forward, past the critical looks of all the older Initiates, as if he drew strength from getting the punishment he thought he deserved. But Xanatos was also glad to sense defiance remained in the boy; he had just transmuted it into a determination to succeed that no insult, no petty slight could penetrate. He had willfully detached himself from all that. It was pathetically over-dramatic, but it was honest.

Cringing, Xanatos wondered if he, himself, looked so willfully self-abusing.

They bowed and began sparring.

Kenobi was quick, strong and talented, much better than the younger ones, but he still had to concentrate too hard to use the Force. Like the others his age, he lacked the experience for it to be truly natural.

And Kenobi had no idea who Xanatos was. He was just another Jedi Knight assisting the instructors. Xanatos found that so refreshing that he enjoyed the match. He pointed out weaknesses in stance, openings in his defense. Kenobi earnestly accepted the advice and tried to improve. It was just a training session, simple, pure, uncomplicated.

They locked sabers, a foolish move for Kenobi since he was so much weaker.

Xanatos's hand shot out, catching Kenobi by the throat. Kenobi's blue lightsaber went out, falling to the mat. Xanatos held him for a moment, forcing him up on his toes before letting go.

"Don't get within striking distance of a stronger opponent," he instructed. "Your best tactic is to evade, attack and retreat quickly."

Kenobi nodded, still clutching his neck. Then he picked up his saber, bowed and went back to where the other students watched and did not move away quite so far from him as they had before.

The instructor singled out Bruck to go next. Xanatos grinned.

This fight would be complicated. But it was past time for it to happen.

Waves of fear and anger radiated from Chun so badly that Xanatos thought that Bondara might stop the fight even before it began.

They bowed and activated their sabers. Bruck attacked first. He struck hard and fast, blow after fierce blow, the sabers snapping and crackling with each impact. But Xanatos did not give up any ground. Frustrated, Bruck just hit harder.

When he drew his saber back far behind his shoulder for one tremendous blow, twisting his whole body, completely exposing his mid-section, Xanatos suddenly deactivated his saber and threw it down to the mat between them.

Chun froze.

"Control your anger, Initiate!" Xanatos shouted.

The spectators all jumped.

"I can teach you nothing if you cannot keep your focus!" Xanatos leaned close, scowling. Bruck's lightsaber was still activated, ready to strike.

The boy's anger vanished into surprise; his green blade went out. Xanatos felt the treacherous tingle of hope in himself. Bruck was no killer.

Xanatos called his lightsaber hilt to his hand, the blue blade activating instantly. He held it up before him in a salute. Bruck fumbled to return the gesture.

"Now. Defend!" he called out. Bruck blocked Xanatos's downward blow with a horizontal slash.

"Defend!" Bruck swung his saber to vertical to counter Xanatos again. With each move Xanatos advanced, Bruck backed up. When they ran out of room, Xanatos switched.

"Now. Attack!" Bruck swung at Xanatos's middle, he deflected the blade, pushing the swing above him.

"Attack!" This time Xanatos stepped to the side, with a single-handed grip, diverting Bruck's blade downward.

It was an elementary exercise. Embarrassingly simple for a senior Initiate, but Xanatos did not give the boy's pride time to catch up. He locked his blue eyes with Bruck's, feeling what he felt through the Force, synchronizing their motions, making sure that the boy felt the power of them working together.

When they almost ran out of space again Xanatos twisted his saber around, whipping Bruck's weapon out of his hand. It went out, flying away. One of the spectators caught it.

"Did you see what you were doing wrong?" Xanatos demanded, extinguishing his saber and sweeping past Bruck. Then he whirled around, not giving his target a chance to reply. "You were using your whole body to block me when you didn't have to. I'm bigger and stronger than you are. I can tire you out. You should deflect me whenever you can. The Force flows through a Jedi, but not if it's used badly."

Xanatos held out his hand. Someone in the crowd yelped when Bruck's lightsaber flew up in the air. Xanatos caught it without looking and then handed it back to Bruck.

"You need improvement. But you'll get better. With the right instruction."

'Padawan,' Xanatos mouthed clearly without speaking aloud so only Bruck could see it. Bruck gulped, clutching his lightsaber hilt.

Grinning Xanatos whirled and stepped aside, allowing Craglar to take his turn with the next student.

The confused stares of the Initiates followed Xanatos from the room, among them Obi-Wan Kenobi.

But as Xanatos reached the door, he glimpsed Qui-Gon Jinn lurking behind a pillar and smirking. He only half-scowled back.

**- ooOo%oOOo%oOOOOo%oOOo%oOoo - **

"What are you looking at? Oafy-Wan?" Bruck snapped when he caught Kenobi watching him as the crowd dispersed from the training area at the end of the lesson. It was bad enough that Xanatos had singled him out in front of everyone, but he would not stand to have Kenobi gawking at him, too.

Kenobi looked away, but not before Bruck saw the gleam of anger in his eyes. Grinning with satisfaction, Bruck followed as Kenobi tried to walk away.

"Still training with the Initiates? The Council's not sure if they want to take you back? They know they can't trust you," he persisted.

Kenobi kept walking, but Bruck could see the tension in his shoulders. If Kenobi got into one fight then he would be out of the Jedi Order for good. And Qui-Gon Jinn would need a new Padawan. While he had not figured out how to get away from Xanatos so he could be chosen by a real Master, Bruck could still trip up this clumsy reject.

"You looked pretty funny gasping for breath with Xanatos's hand around your throat." Bruck made choking sounds.

Kenobi whirled. "At least I kept my lightsaber. Maybe you should tie yours to your wrist next time so you don't lose it."

"Maybe you can show me," Bruck sneered, taking out his own lightsaber and activating it. But Kenobi did not react the way he should have. He opened his mouth without speaking. And he did not touch his lightsaber.

He looked afraid.

He turned and fast-walked away.

"Running away!? Like you ran away from your Master? You're not going to make it, Oafy-Wan, if you're too cowardly to fight!" he shouted, frustrated, going after him. "They won't even take you in Agri-Corps! They'll just pack you off to a rim world and let you fend for yourself!" But his target didn't even look back.

Kenobi turned a corner and disappeared.

Bruck stopped, his chance of ridding the Temple of Oafy-Wan fleeing out of reach. If anyone saw him running after Kenobi in the corridors with a lightsaber then he would wipe out his own chances of being chosen. Even the other Initiates who hated Kenobi would take his side.

Bruck deactivated his saber. It wasn't fair. This wasn't supposed to happen, but he knew that nothing he said to Kenobi would ever affect him again; that weakling was getting away and he couldn't stop it. Perhaps if he had his friends to join in the taunting. . . . .but they were all gone to their own Masters and he was alone.

His panic returned, stronger than before. An icy fear in his stomach that he could not run away from.

What would he do. . . . . if Obi-Wan Kenobi remained Qui-Gon Jinn's Padawan. Chosen. . . . . and he, Bruck Chun, was not?

**- ooOo%oOOo%oOOOOo%oOOo%oOoo - **

Xanatos's days were pleasantly dull for a time. His evenings restful. He saw Bruck at lightsaber training. The boy still resisted, staying as far away as he could, but the calender of his age was steadily working toward when he would have to choose. Chun looked increasingly frustrated and he could not even lash out at Kenobi, an old target for his bullying. Kenobi had not been practicing with the senior Initiates lately and Xanatos suspected that Qui-Gon Jinn had something to do with keeping him out of Bruck's reach.

Xanatos contentedly left Chun to make his choice, though there seemed to be little doubt about what it would be.

Best of all, Xanatos's past stayed blissfully murky, distant and unintrusive. He knew it would not last, so he enjoyed the moment. Something that he had finally learned from Qui-Gon Jinn how to do.

The first change in his routine came when Qui-Gon waved to him in the eating hall, calling him to the table he shared with Kenobi. Weaving among the other tables of Jedi eating and conversing, he took his tray to them and set it down.

"Xanatos, I would like you to meet my new Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi," Qui-Gon introduced as Xanatos took a seat. "Obi-Wan, this is Xanatos Son-of-Crion, my previous Padawan," he finished, using the surname that Xanatos had given himself after taking his father's life.

Kenobi perked up immediately, hastily chewing and swallowing his last bites of stew and bread. Xanatos graciously nodded and Kenobi bowed his head in return, his blue-gray eyes alive with curiosity. Clearly he remembered Xanatos from lightsaber training. And Xanatos noticed that the boy's short braid was just beginning to grow out from behind his left ear, his Padawan's lock a fluffy shock of hair on the back of his head.

"I have heard that you have been a difficult challenge to my former teacher," Xanatos began bluntly, starting on his own meal. Obi-Wan blushed.

"He had been progressing admirably," Qui-Gon defended.

"Off probation then?" Xanatos inquired innocently.

"Soon. We hope."

Kenobi continued to blush and tried to hide it by shoveling more food into his mouth.

"How is the Temple Waste Recycling doing?" Qui-Gon countered.

"Oh magnificently," Xanatos declared. "Just the other day, someone tried to stuff an entire cushion from a sleep couch into a disposal chute. You'd be amazed by what the Jedi Order gets up to. But it all gets flushed down to the lower levels of the Temple. Eventually. Quite enlightening, really."

They made small talk over their meal about a short diplomatic mission Qui-Gon had been on. Obi-Wan said nothing but watched respectfully as Xanatos described the various unique problems that came to the Temple Custodians. The questions were there, behind his inquisitive looks, wondering what past lay between the old Padawan and his new Master, but for now, he remained too cautious to ask.

"You have chosen your new Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked as they finished their meal, again getting Obi-Wan's attention.

Xanatos smiled.

"Soon," he replied.

**~ ~ ~ END PART 5**


	6. Chapter 6

**XANATOS: DETACHED**

by ardavenport

**~ ~ ~ PART 6**

Bruck Chun had planned to get in some extra lightsaber training at the end of the day. He had not seen Kenobi for several days now, so there was no chance of tripping him up so his Master would be free to choose a new apprentice. But the instructors had hinted that a couple of other Knights would be viewing their practice bouts.

He dropped off a galactic history reading assignment in his room when Docent Vant brought him a data pad and showed him his orders.

Suddenly, all of his plans were gone.

"It isn't that bad," the tall blue-skinned woman said, her long head tail twitching.

Bruck stared at the orders in shock. The data pad told him that he would ship out of the Temple the next day. He needed to pack his things.

He was to report to an agrarian world that he had never heard of in the outer Core. To join the Agricultural Corps.

"They can't do this. My birthday isn't for four weeks yet!"

"I know," Docent Vant said. "But the ship leaves with its cargo of seed grain. It can't wait just because you have a birthday."

Bruck wanted to hit her in her patronizing face. He balled up his fist, but knew he couldn't strike a docent. He looked back toward his room. And supposed that he wouldn't have to read that history assignment now.

"This isn't right," he hissed, turning back to her.

Vant smiled, revealing her pointed teeth, her hands folded before her. She shook her head. "Not everyone is meant to be a warrior. The Republic needs healers and farmers, too. With your Force skills, you will be able to treat sick crops. Your talent will help feed whole worlds."

Bruck thought that Vant would need a healer very soon if she didn't go away. He clutched the data pad tightly as if he could crush it and it's orders of . . . . failure. He nodded silently and Vant left him.

Lightsaber practice was out of the question now. Pointless. He inhaled deeply, as he had been trained, trying to keep the panic down. Who could he go to? His instructors? None of them would even think of challenging this order; it would have been approved by the Jedi Council. There was no one who would do that.

He began walking. Out of the Initiates area. But immediately he became aware of a change in attitude in the people in the corridors and the common areas.

They were looking away from him.

They knew. Bruck's heart beat faster. He wanted to shout at them all. Give them a good reason to be afraid of looking at him.

And in a doorway, Bruck saw Kenobi. Talking to the little Calamari girl. Her large, silvery eyes saw him and filled with sadness.

Pity? From fish-girl? he thought angrily.

And when Kenobi turned his head to see him, Bruck saw. . . .

. . . . . the same expression.

Bruck fled.

**- ooOo%oOOo%oOOOOo%oOOo%oOoo - **

Xanatos looked up from a worktable full of enormous green and purple feathers from somebody's careless molting to find a pale haired boy standing there looking at him with desperate watery blue eyes.

He straightened and raised his brows, waiting for Bruck to speak. The boy swallowed and held up a data pad. Xanatos took it and read the glowing yellow text.

"You're to be assigned to Agri-Corps," he commented out loud. Bruck stood silently, his jaw clinched, his eyes reddened.

"Do you want me to fix this?" Xanatos asked loudly, casually.

Bruck Chun forced out one word past his sorely stressed and damaged pride.

"Yes."

"Pledge it," Xanatos hissed.

Bruck twitched, lowering his eyes. Shoulders hunched, he marched around the large table with its mounds of fluffy debris, but a few bits of down caught on the sleeve of his tunic, bright purple on the off-white fabric. He fell stiffly to his knees, eyes upward. A perfect posture of obedience.

"I pledge myself to your teachings. My Master." Bruck lowered his head.

Xanatos sighed, his chest tightening, his simple, uncomplicated life slipping away.

"I accept your pledge. And your service," he whispered. He could feel the old sickness creeping into him, spurred on by the turmoil in the boy before him. Xanatos shook it off.

"Master Craglar!" he called out. Craglar coughed out his response, a thick flemmy sound. "Could you show my new Padawan around here while I go on a few errands? I need to fix something," he said, waving the data pad.

"Get up," he said to Bruck. He waved him toward Craglar, who pulled his worn robe around his long brown tunic and gave the boy a sour, whiskery look.

"I'll be back soon," he said, patting Bruck on the shoulder. The boy flinched. "Or as soon as I can at least." Chun was looking a bit sick as he left.

Xanatos did not bother with docents or instructors. He went directly to Master Yoda. Walking unannounced into the grand-Master's private meditation chamber. One unsurprised green eye opened to peer up at him. Xanatos threw the data pad down on the meditation pedestal before the tiny, big-eared Council member.

"Bruck Chun had pledged himself to me. And I've accepted him. I told him I'd fix this."

Yoda hardly glanced at the pad. He took in a long unhurried breath and let it out again.

"Teach this boy, you can? Much pride has he. Much anger."

Xanatos shook his head sadly. "Nowhere near as much as I. As you well know. And he'll have the benefit of a Master who isn't blind to his faults."

"So sure you are then?" Yoda persisted, his expression sly, challenging. But Xanatos shook his head.

"He's not a killer. I checked."

Yoda nodded, sighing again. "Know best you do, of these things." Tilting his head, he looked up at the dark-haired Knight before him. "Take him. The Force be with you both," he finished, invoking the usual curse of the Jedi.

Xanatos gave him a swaggering bow and left.

He took a lift down to the lower levels again, going to the Temple Custodian Data Center. Having worked with them for a few years, he knew exactly where to go, who to talk to. Yoda had already made Bruck's appointment official by the time he arrived.

He picked out a room for Bruck, arranged for its provision. Made all the appropriate appointments for assessments that Bruck would be required to take, security briefings, new training, new privileges at the Archive. And as a Jedi Padawan, Bruck Chun was now legally an adult in the Galactic Republic, though Xanatos thought that this automatic designation was much too premature.

He collected the schedules and assignments on a new data pad and headed back to the Solid Wastes Recycling Center in the sub-sub-levels of the Temple. It was already late. He would miss his evening walk.

By the time he got there, Bruck Chun was looking thoroughly traumatized. Old Craglar had probably started out with a tour of the liquid waste recycling tanks. He prided himself on not flinching from the nastiest tasks and sneered at anyone who did. Nothing in the Temple could compare to some of the missions he had been sent on in his younger days. He was waving charred droid parts at Chun when Xanatos interrupted.

"All fixed," he announced cheerfully.

Bruck looked as if he'd been thrown a lifeline, but Craglar grimaced his disappointment at having his fun interrupted.

"Thank you for your service, my fine old friend."

Craglar scowled, bunching up the wrinkles on half his face. "You're not even close to being fixed, my fine young Knight," he answered.

"But I'm working on it, my fine old friend."

Craglar's scowl changed to a smirk. He winked.

"The Force be with you then." It felt so much less like a curse when Craglar said it that Xanatos felt as if he had been thrown a lifeline. He bowed deeply and the old Knight returned it.

Xanatos headed Bruck toward the door and they left. He set a brisk pace and Bruck kept up. He was large for his age. He would probably be tall someday. Maybe even as big as Qui-Gon though his new Master hoped not.

When they finally arrived at the Initiates' living area, Xanatos informed the Master there of Bruck's change of status and breezed by to Bruck's room.

"Collect your things. And any learning assignments you have. The droids should have your new room ready by now."

Bruck nodded and disappeared. Xanatos did not need to help, Bruck was only allowed to take what he could carry and the standard necessities would already be in his new room. Jedi Knights were not allowed possessions. When he emerged, he wore a pack and carried two soft bags that looked like they mostly held spare clothes, a corner of a brown robe poking out of one of them.

"Anything left over that you want to give away to the younger ones?" Xanatos asked.

Bruck's pale blue eyes stared back, not quite comprehending the question. He looked over his shoulder. Xanatos supposed that Bruck wasn't used to the idea of giving anything away. He caught a glimpse of some small shy Initiates looking their way. They would probably not miss the big bully and would likely have a good time dividing up his old youngling toys.

"Leave it," he told him abruptly. "Come on." Bruck followed.

They left the Initiates' sleeping area behind and entered the Knights' living area. They descended a couple levels down winding spiral stairs and went down a long corridor of many doors, dimly lit for evening. They stopped at one and Bruck stared at the glowing nameplate.

"This is my room," Xanatos told him. "You can come to me at any time for any reason. Com first if you can. Do you understand?"

Bruck nodded. "Yes."

Xanatos doubted that he really did, but the words would have to do for now. He led his new apprentice down the hall and they descended three levels, passed through more corridors of doors and open areas, and finally they stopped at one door of many. Bruck stared at the nameplate again.

'Bruck Chun: Padawan to Knight Xanatos Son-of-Crion.'

"This is your room." Xanatos waved the door open. They entered.

It was plain and bare with a single big holo-window on one wall, a sleep couch and side table, a small table with floor cushions. Xanatos waved the fresher door open but there was nothing exciting in there.

"You will live in it as my Padawan. And then as a Jedi Knight. Until the day you die."

**~ ~ ~ END PART 6**


	7. Chapter 7

**XANATOS: DETACHED**

by ardavenport

**~ ~ ~ PART 7**

Bruck looked about warily. Then he bowed.

"Thank-you," he said, possibly an attempt to get rid his fatalistic new Master. Xanatos smirked.

"We're not done yet. Have a seat."

Xanatos went into the fresher and found combs, cutters, trimmers and elastic ties. When he came out Bruck was sitting on a floor cushion.

"Turn around," he ordered. When Bruck complied, Xanatos dumped the tools on the table and sat down next to them. "Now let's see what we've got," he said speculatively. He grabbed a handful on the back of Bruck's head. The boy braced himself, but said nothing, finally having figured out what his Master was up to.

Bruck had let his hair grow long, clearly anticipating becoming an apprentice. A lot of Initiates did. Xanatos had. But Bruck's white hair was fine and thin and he had to gather a lot of it for even a small tail lock. And for the braid. He tied those off and then appraised the rest.

Trimmer poised, Xanatos was quite tempted to shave it all off. Just to see what it looked like. But he did not want to risk having a Padawan with an ugly bald head following him around until the hair could grow out again. Cutting the rest of it short would do. The trimmer hummed. Long strands of white hair fell away over Bruck's shoulders, down his back.

"You've said very little since I rescued you from the Agri-Corps. My young Padawan," Xanatos commented.

"I - - - I'm grateful that you chose me. My Master."

Xanatos chuckled. "You accepted me only because no one else would have you. I'm honored by your service." He brushed the fine white hairs away. "Will you tell your family who your new Master is?"

Bruck tensed. Xanatos pulled the trimmer away. "What do you know about them?" he challenged, some of his old pride finally reviving.

"I know who they are. I know they send you private coms every year. I don't know what's in them. But I did stalk you for weeks, Bruck. I made inquiries." Bruck scowled back. "Turn your head, Padawan. I haven't finished yet." Bruck did so and Xanatos cut off the last of the excess hair. He then trimmed the tail lock and tried to comb it into a passable curl but it refused, laying flat on his head. Bruck's hair was even thinner and more lifeless than his own.

"Turn your head," he said. After Bruck did so, Xanatos began tying the braid. He used orange and blue bands. He supposed the colors meant something, but he would just make something up about what that was later. Blue and orange were what he had found first in the fresher.

After tying the last band, he sat back to admire his work. But Bruck's expression was as grim and serious as if he was being prodded by a medical droid.

"So, what did your father say to you? I know you received a com from his recently."

Bruck's eyes glared a silent challenge.

"Padawans and Masters do not keep personal secrets from each other," Xanatos instructed.

"What about your family? Your father?" Bruck countered.

Xanatos sat back, a long sigh escaping him.

"You are wise to ask me first. Since my story is so much more colored than yours." He closed his eyes briefly before beginning.

"I was Crion's only son. Only child. My talent was only discovered when I was three, relatively late, but not unheard of. And of course, it was a great honor to give me up to the Jedi. I suppose my father expected to have more children, but my mother was killed in an accident soon after I was taken. And Crion never seemed to be able to attract another suitable woman. Some people insist that the loss drove him to become cruel and ambitious, but I really doubt that. Nobody could be as vicious as he was without a natural talent for it.

"I got yearly coms from him, but I never answered. I was only ambitions to become a Jedi Knight and Qui-Gon Jinn selected me when I was only ten to be his apprentice. I had a lot of talent. And I knew how to use it.

"But I failed in my ambition to become the youngest Jedi Knight in the Order, but Qui-Gon thought I was ready to take the trials by the time I was twenty. I thought it was past time. But Master Yoda set up one final test. For both of us.

"It was that mission to Telos, to negotiate a settlement between the different factions in the government. But I failed before we even got there. I didn't like the captain of transport we took. So, I sabotaged his ship and got him captured by pirates, but only after I'd arranged for a neat escape for us."

Bruck watched expressionlessly.

"This is the place where you're supposed to express you first outrage at my behavior," Xanatos prompted, annoyed.

"What did the captain do to you?" Bruck asked.

Xanatos looked down at the boy on the floor cushion, sitting at his feet, where his Master's first lesson about revenge and cruelty had gone completely over his head. Well, it was too much to expect for him to give up his inclinations as a bully on the first night, but Xanatos had hoped that his near brush with Agri-Corps would have softened him up a bit more.

"When we got to Telos," Xanatos went on, not bothering with the question, "my father greeted me like a lost child, which I suppose I was. He was charming and flattering and he was good at it. He knew me, because I was very much like him. My upbringing never changed that. Suddenly all those old messages he had sent about our great lineage, the family holdings, our hereditary greatness, it all came alive for me with his words. I had a revelation. I found my true calling.

"Helping my father take over the government."

Bruck Chun squirmed, reassuring Xanatos that he had the boy's attention.

"It seemed like such a good idea at the time. My father made it sound so simple and sensible. It was for the greater good, because those other idiots shouldn't be in charge. They would just ruin the whole planet," he explained, but he feared that the sarcasm in his tone was too subtle for Bruck's fairly literal mind to comprehend. He would train that deficiency out of him as soon as possible.

Bruck's expression changed. Xanatos could see the thought wheels slowly churning.

"You helped Crion take over the government? You were part of the coup?" the boy finally attached words to what his Master had just told him. Xanatos clinched his mouth shut and reminded himself that the boy wasn't really slow, he just had bad thinking habits. He knew immediately that he would be doing that quite a lot for the next few years.

"Yes. I was."

Bruck twisted his mouth in distaste, not liking the contradiction to the facts that he already knew were true. Yet another bad habit that would have to be trained out of him. Xanatos realized that he would have to start a list.

"So, was your father."

Bruck's head snapped up, his mouth open.

"Do you think he'd tell you that in his messages? That he was arrested along with all of Crion's other administrators after the coup failed?"

Bruck opened his mouth, but Xanatos cut him off.

"I was there.

"Vox Chun was very forward about introducing himself. And pointing out that there were two sons of Telos at the Jedi Temple," Xanatos said sternly, then in a softer voice, "He's very proud of you. And so is your mother. They showed up at a social event that my father held as a cover for a meeting to plan the coup. Your father was one of his treasurers. He helped garnish the public funds to pay to overthrow the government. He didn't have anything to do with the fighting. Or killing. Just the financing.

"When was the last time you met him, Bruck? In person? Not just through a holo-recording?" Xanatos demanded when he still saw defiance in Bruck's eyes.

His new apprentice lowered his gaze.

"I was brought to the Temple when I was a baby," he admitted.

"So, you've effectively never met him. In your living memory."

"He wouldn't lie to me!" Bruck suddenly shouted.

"Father's lie!" Xanatos snarled back just as loudly, leaning close, forcing Bruck to pull back. "I know."

"What about Master's?" Bruck challenged.

Xanatos sat back and slowly grinned.

"Now you're thinking.

"Masters do lie. But you should be especially wary of Masters who lie to themselves first. They're the most dangerous.

"I'm telling you what I know about what happened on Telos. But you shouldn't take my word for it. . . . in fact. . . ." He rubbed his chin. "This will be my first assignment for you. I want you to go to the Archive when we're finished with all the other busy work we have to do tomorrow and look up everything they have about what happened on Telos. I want you to pay particular attention to first person accounts. You'll find that everyone has a different point of view. And they almost always conflict.

"A Jedi Knight has to find his path through all that."

After a long suspicious pause, Bruck nodded.

"I see another question in there," Xanatos said.

Bruck pressed his lips together.

"If you helped Crion to take over the government . . . then how did you kill him? Why?"

Xanatos slowly leaned back, taking in air that suddenly sounded very loud in his ears. His heart pounded.

"Crion wanted to kill Qui-Gon. Blame him for plotting against the government and use him as an excuse to take over." Xanatos stared blankly forward, over Bruck's pale head. He could feel the memory flowing into him, taking over.

"That idiot Qui-Gon tried to stop the coup and got himself captured instead," he spat out angrily. "Always acting without thinking. Without any plan at all. He was always a disaster that way. I don't know how I put up with it.

"But I couldn't let him kill my Master. And blame the Jedi for conspiring to take over. I was supposed to be the heroic Jedi warrior who saved Telos! But Crion wanted to change the plan!" He jumped to his feet.

"He wouldn't listen! I'd be expelled from the Order! Stuck on his small little world! He thought the whole galaxy revolved around Telos.

"But I was never afraid of him. He couldn't just slap me down like the rest of his toadies. So he drew his blaster instead."

Xanatos's lightsaber flew into his hand, cold blue fire activating, a long beam of deadly power that ignited his entire body.

"Fool! When has a blaster ever been faster than a lightsaber!" His body turned and darted to the side like a dancer, his saber deflecting his father's blaster bolts. The old man might as well have tried to fire into the sun. His arm shot up, the blade slashing down.

Xanatos froze. He felt as if the floor had fallen away.

A puff of smoke, a whiff of burned flesh from a perfect, perfect black circle in the middle of Crion's forehead.

The face frozen in shock, the body fell backward.

The life presence of Crion just dissipated, like the smoke, and vanished into the Force.

Xanatos numbly fell to his knees, his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

His back pressed against the wall, one terrified white-haired boy with a new Padawan's braid stared back with wide pale blue eyes.

For a moment, Xanatos wondered where he had come from. Air rushed in and out of his lungs, as if he had been running for a long time and had finally stopped. He looked down and then to his right until he found the glowing lightsaber clutched tightly in his hand.

He clicked it off.

The blade vanished. All the power dissipated. Like smoke.

Wondrous, Xanatos threw his arms out and laughed. He felt so alive. He had never imagined that it could feel so good.

Bruck Chun's eyes darted to either side of him, looking for an escape from his crazed Master.

His fit subsiding, Xanatos extended a hand to the boy. Even letting go of the happiness felt good.

"That's the first time I've ever told that story without being sick!" But somehow Bruck seemed incapable of sharing his joy. He stayed with his back pressed to the wall. The dark-haired Knight shook his head and let his hand drop. There would be plenty of time to explain it to him.

He climbed to his feet and reattached the still warm lightsaber hilt to his belt. He brushed his black bangs aside. It was late. He was tired. Real happiness was exhausting.

"I'll be here tomorrow morning. We'll go to first meal together. Be ready." He started to turn, but his eye caught the mess of filmy white hairs on the table, the cushion and on the floor. He gestured vaguely toward it. "You can clean that up."

He started out and then turned back again.

"But don't put it in the waste disposal in the fresher. It will only clog the drain."

**~ ~ ~ END PART 7**


	8. Chapter 8

**XANATOS: DETACHED**

by ardavenport

**~ ~ ~ PART 8**

Bruck Chun did not sleep that night.

After cleaning up (he put his discarded hair into the main room's waste disposal) he unpacked his things, putting spare clothes and equipment and learning assignments onto shelves. He paused when his hand pulled out his holo-reader, his father's last message still in it. Sagging, he sat down on his sleep couch and activated it.

Nothing about it had changed.

Except it wasn't true.

Feeling betrayed, he watched the shadowy little figure of the big man with white hair. Bruck no longer felt as if this stranger was even his real father.

Then who was?

Xanatos?

Flinching, Bruck shut the recorder off and tossed it aside. He felt orphaned. Alone. Xanatos's words about him living in this miserable little room until he died sounded very, very real to him now. Was this what happened to his friends who had already been chosen? Shut into little gray rooms by their Masters?

No, he thought, despairing. They would at least be going out on missions, flying to distant planets. Being Jedi. While he would be toiling away in the lower levels of the Temple with his crazy Master, where Master Craglar could spit on him for the rest of his life.

He flopped back onto the sleep couch. His hand touched his head and the short hair that Xanatos had left behind. Then his fingers probed behind his right ear, the braid that he had paid such a high price for.

What had he done? What had he agreed to?

**- ooOo%oOOo%oOOOOo%oOOo%oOoo - **

Bruck Chun looked awful in the morning.

But he was dressed and ready, his room was clean, so Xanatos said nothing about his long face and the sleepless circles under his eyes.

Xanatos had already had his morning meditation, but he had not decided what Bruck's routine would be. He would observe the boy for a few days before deciding. There was plenty of time.

In the eating hall, they collected their trays and food and after scanning the first meal crowd, Xanatos spotted exactly what he wanted. He wove between the tables and people toward his goal, Bruck following.

"My fine friend, Qui-Gon," he greeted with a smile.

Qui-Gon Jinn smiled and nodded back. His Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi froze, a scoopful of food halfway to his gaping mouth. Xanatos went around the table to take the seat across from Qui-Gon.

"I'd like to introduce my new Padawan, Bruck Chun."

Qui-Gon turned his head to look around his shoulder. Bruck still stood away from the table, holding his tray, his eyes locked with Kenobi's.

"Bruck!" Xanatos spoke loudly enough to catch the attention of people at the other tables around them. He pointed at the single empty chair left, the one across from Kenobi. Conspicuously now the center of attention, Bruck edged over to the empty seat, keeping as far away from Kenobi as he could. He sat. The air across the table seemed to thicken with the mutual loathing of the two Padawans.

"Is this a new appointment?" Qui-Gon asked, dabbing a thick white spread on a muffin.

"Just yesterday," Xanatos answered, unfolding his napkin. He had a fine appetite. On either side of him, the petty furies of the Padawans were brewing. And Xanatos. . . .

Did.

Not.

Care.

Somewhere in his long ago past, Xanatos knew that nothing would have mattered to him more than the personal slights of others and settling old scores. But it mattered not at all now.

So, this was the real Jedi detachment that Qui-Gon had tried to teach to him for years. It was bliss. Across the table, Qui-Gon Jinn looked a bit smug. Clearly he could sense his old apprentice's contentment. But even that did not bother Xanatos. He put a dollop of sauce on his tayos and protein patties and took a bite. Even food tasted better.

"Perhaps, now that you have a new apprentice, we might train together?" Qui-Gon offered genially. "This afternoon I will be showing Obi-Wan a new form. I'm sure Bruck is up to the challenge."

The two Padawans silently glared over their food at each other. Both Masters ignored it. Xanatos was quite glad that the table was too wide for them to kick each other.

"It will have to be another time, but thank-you. Today's schedule is quite full with the ordinary details of taking on a new apprentice. We do not all leap immediately into missions on the first day. That will have to wait until tomorrow." Xanatos took a bite of muffin.

It took Bruck about three bites before he realized what his Master's last words implied.

"Master," he asked. "Will. . . .we be going out on missions?"

"Of course." Xanatos sipped his juice. Bruck looked very confused.

"But. . . . I thought you didn't go on missions?"

"While I treasure my uncomplicated existence, as the Master of a young apprentice such as yourself, I am expected to serve in a more active capacity, to broaden your education."

Bruck looked absolutely out of breath with the revelation that his fortunes had suddenly changed for the better. Obi-Wan looked at his fellow apprentice suspiciously.

"Then perhaps we will be assigned to the same missions then?" Qui-Gon suggested. Both Bruck and Obi-Wan looked at hin critically as if he had just suggested that they form a singing group.

Xanatos could well imagine it; that devious little green gremlin at the core of all the workings of the Jedi Order would do something like that. While it was easy to ignore two contentious boys at one meal, or even during an occasional bout of training, a whole mission of them sniping at each other might strain his newly found sense of detachment too much. He wasn't up to Qui-Gon Jinn's level yet.

He eyed Kenobi, who clearly grasped the concept of letting go of his animosity toward Chun, but had not had much practice at it.

He eyed Bruck. It would take him a couple years to teach Bruck the bliss of detachment.

He narrowed his eyes at Bruck.

Probably more that a couple of years.

Years. . . . . teaching, struggling to make a self-centered, thick-headed bully into a Jedi Knight. He wanted to succeed. He wanted Bruck to know what he had to learn the hard way. He. . . . . . cared. In the most selfless, sappiest Jedi way possible. Xanatos looked down at his plate.

Well, at least his food still tasted good.

"It is always possible," Xanatos covered, stalling, trying to remember what Qui-Gon had just said.

Then he held up a hand when inspiration saved him. "But I think I will suggest that we might serve with Master Craglar. He rarely gets out of the Temple, but he's quite capable. And very experienced."

Bruck blanched. Obi-Wan smirked. Qui-Gon shrugged.

Xanatos felt peace settle into him again. He nodded to them all.

"Well, we don't have to be attached to any particular plan. We will deal with those details later."

**- ooOo%o END o%oOoo - **

This story first posted on tf.n: 22-Feb-2009

**Disclaimer:** All characters and situations belong to George and Lucasfilm; I'm just playing in their sandbox.


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